


evanescent

by almostprimary



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 07:11:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15625446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostprimary/pseuds/almostprimary
Summary: lance falls asleep to keith every night and wakes up every morning without him.





	evanescent

**Author's Note:**

> this is a shitty, ooc, unedited drabble. suffer. enjoy.

_ Find Keith.  _

 

The piece of paper taped to the ceiling is crumpled, the words are written in a messy scrawl that Lance can’t quite recognize. 

He sits up in his bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stretching his arms.

Glancing up at the paper again, he scoffs.  _ ‘Find Keith’.  _ What a joke, trying to send Lance on some wild goose chase first-thing in the morning. 

Lance spots his helmet on the floor, which has a large crack running down the center of it, dividing it in two. This is weird because Lance doesn’t remember damaging the helmet, the last mission he was on… 

_ Oh. _

Memories flash through his head at an alarming rate. 

_ The ticking off a bomb. Shoving Coran. The metallic scraping of Keith’s sword, attempting to slice away at Sendak. Feebly reaching for the gun.  _

_ A glove-clad hand. Strong arms. Long fingers intertwining. “We are a good team.” _

“Sendak,” Lance gasps. Suddenly, his mind is in a panic, feet tripping over themselves to find someone,  _ anyone.  _ He sprints past Keith’s room, continuing to run for god knows how long. Lance usually enjoys the open space, but right now the castle seems a little bit too big, too empty. His lungs burn and his muscles ache by the time that he finally finds another person. 

“Hunk!” he calls out, upon spotting the dark hair and green vest. 

Hunk is holding a large blue roll of paper. He hides it behind his back as he watches Lance approach. He looks marginally more panicked, too. 

Lance stops beside his friend, doubling over to catch his breath. His racing heart calms, and he takes a moment to take in his surroundings. 

“Hunk?” Lance asks. “What are you doing outside of Allura’s room?”

Hunk hasn’t spoken a word yet. Coincidentally, he’s also avoiding eye contact and rocking anxiously on his heels. 

“What’s on the blueprints?” Lance asks, lunging forwards to grab the paper. 

Hunk takes another step back, refusing to hand over the plans. Why is everything so messed up right now? 

“Look,” Hunk says. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. Keith will-”

Lance groans incessantly, interrupting the yellow paladin’s sentence.  _ Keith _ . What’s happening with Keith too? Did someone die and make him the leader of Voltron? 

“I can expose every damn secret you’ve told me since we were twelve,” Lance spits. “Keith can’t.”

Hunk hesitates for a second, finally bringing his eyes to meet Lance’s glare. He hands the blueprints over, his panicked expression taken over by one of guilt. 

Lance unrolls the paper cautiously, squinting at the intellectual words in an attempt to find their definition. The few words that are written in comprehensible English catch his eye.  _ “Blue Lion Modifications for Allura” _

Lance feels like he’s been punched in the gut. Involve questions recycle themselves in his mind. How long was he asleep? Does Allura pilot the blue lion now? Why is Keith so important? Who wrote the paper on the ceiling? Has he been replaced?

Thoughts accelerate in his mind, the room spins and Lance feels his legs shake before they fold beneath him. His breath comes out in shallow gasps and Lance wants everything to slow down, he  _ needs _ everything to slow down. His vision tunnels and all he can see is the corner of the blueprint, left discarded on the ground. 

_ Find Keith. _

Finding Keith sounds like a good idea right now, his strong arms and tenor voice. Lance should have just listened to the damn piece of paper. 

“Lance,” a voice is saying. (It’s tenor and surprisingly soft, but that might be part of his imagination.) 

Arms are wrapping around his waist, warm and firm and  _ exactly _ what Lance wished for. 

They’re Keith’s arms. 

_ What’s happening to me?  _ Lance tries to ask, but his tongue feels heavy and swollen in his mouth. 

“Ke-Keith,” he gasps out. “Can’t- breathe.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Keith says, moving a hand to rub circles on Lance’s back. “It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”

He repeats these words until eventually, Lance believes him. 

It probably takes less than five minutes for Lance to calm down. To Lance, it feels like hours. Letting out a final shudder and shaky exhale, he realizes that both Hunk and the blueprints are missing. Keith’s arms loosen from around him and Lance shuffles out of his hold awkwardly, unsure of what to say. 

What  _ does _ one say to their… (what even  _ is _ his relationship to Keith?) after they cradle you in their arms?

“I know you’re confused right now,” Keith says. “I’ll explain everything.”

Lance feels his cheeks burn, letting the entire situation process. As pathetic and embarrassed as he felt, the situation was equally as intimate and exciting. 

“I- uh,” Lance stutters, folding his arms across his chest. “Thanks. For that.”

He glances at Keith from the corner of his eye and his heart skips a beat. Keith is  _ smiling _ . Nonetheless, directing his smile at  _ Lance _ . A  _ fond _ smile. 

This doesn’t contribute to cooling the persistent blush on his face, either. 

Finally turning to face the red paladin, Lance notices differences on Keith. His hair is longer, his cheekbones rest higher on his face, his jawline is more defined. Dare he say, Keith looks  _ hot _ . 

“You look… different,” Lance says. “Bigger.”

Keith laughs at this, a  _ real _ laugh. A genuine, loud, ugly, cackling laugh.

“Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?” Keith asks, grin never leaving his face. 

Lance is unable to come up with a real reply, being too occupied with stumbling over his own words. He’s not quite sure if this is the real Keith or his alternate-reality-twin, but he’s making Lance feel fluttery in his stomach. He kind of wants to kiss Keith. 

This train of thought is interrupted when Keith leads him to the castle’s kitchen, mumbling about self-care and eating properly. 

Seated in front of a bowl of (slightly suspicious) Altean nutrients, Lance refuses to eat. 

“I want answers,” he pouts, turning his head at the food. 

“Eat first,” Keith insists. 

“You’re an ass.”   
Keith rolls his eyes. “Says the one who’s refusing to eat his food like a toddler.”   
“Fuck you,” Lance says, though his words have no punch. 

Keith must find something about this extremely funny because he covers his mouth with his hand and  _ giggles _ . 

“That’s it.” Lance stands up, slamming his palms on the table. “Maybe I’ll just go find Hunk again and ask him what the hell is going on.”

Keith’s places a hand on top of Lance’s, cheeky smile replaced by a solemn expression. 

“You can’t do that,” he says. “Sit down, Lance.”   
  


Lance McClain falls asleep on the night of December 1st and wakes up six months later. 

No, that’s not it. Strictly speaking, Lance doesn’t remember falling asleep in Keith’s arms after ‘emerging from a coma to shoot Sendak’. He doesn’t remember waking up every day for six months after, either.

“When the bomb went off, you hit your head,” Keith explains. He’s looking down, fingers fiddling together. (Probably in an attempt to keep his composure.) “I’m not a neurologist, but it messed up your memory.”

Lance is struggling to keep up, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. So yesterday wasn’t actually yesterday and every day-

“Everyday, you wake up and think that it’s the day after Sendak attacked the castle,” Keith confirms. 

“That’s bullshit,” Lance says, unwilling to believe. “Keith that, that’s-”

“It’s crazy,” Keith sighs. “I know.”

“The blue lion?” he asks. 

“Allura takes great care of her, you don’t need to worry,” Keith says. 

Lance doesn’t think that he’s fully processed the information given to him. The _ completely inane _ information. 

“Don’t think about it too much,” Keith shrugs. “You’ll forget about it by tomorrow.”

Lance realizes (rather wistfully) that Keith is right. His memory is a ticking time-bomb, bound to reset after twenty-four hours. 

And-  _ oh _ .

Keith has to deal with this every single day. Babysitting Lance like an infant- he doesn’t even want to imagine what happens on the days that the paladins aren’t present in the castle.

Desperate to lighten to mood, against all better judgement, Lance asks, “Do I want to kiss you this badly every day?”

“I don’t know,” Keith says, leaning in dangerously close. “How badly do you want to kiss me?”

Lance can practically feel the ghost of his lips, hovering over his own. Also, holy shit, is Keith  _ flirting _ ?

“No fair,” Lance says, not even trying to deject the smirk on his lips. “I’m a victim. You’re taking advantage of me.” 

Keith wastes no time in raising a hand to cup Lance’s face and pressing their lips together.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day is spent dexterously, it being a rare occasion when Voltron isn’t required to defend the universe. 

Lance smashes the buttons on a game controller and Keith joins in for a few rounds, eventually surrendering and scribbling in a journal instead. 

They retreat to Keith’s room later, desolate and meagre as the last time Lance saw it. (Or remembers seeing it, at least.)

Sharing lazy kisses and maudlin cuddles, they must both fall asleep at some point. 

Lance wakes up first, equally as confused as he was mortified to see Keith Kogane  _ spooning _ him. He almost yells for help, it taking a few moments for the day’s previous memories to flood his mind again. 

Scanning the immaculate bedroom, he notices the journal Keith was writing in before is on the ground, within Lance’s reach. After a small moral dispute, Lance bites his lip and grabs the journal from the ground, flipping it open to the first page. _ It’s not like he’ll remember anything he reads by tomorrow.  _

 

_ Day 1  _

_ Removed from healing pod. Recovery success unknown. _

 

_ Day 2 _

_ Physically, he seems fine. Coran expects a full recovery.  _

 

_ Day 3 _

_ Woke up today and asked how the fight with Sendak yesterday was.  _

 

_ Day 4 _

_ He woke up and asked if we won in the battle yesterday.  _

 

_ Day 5 _

_ Coran says the healing pod can not fix small neurological issues.  _

 

_ Day 6 _

_ Lance can fix this on his own. He’s a fighter. _

 

_ Day 7 _

_ Asked me how we delt with Sendak.  _

 

_ Day 8 _

_ He’s like a broken record.  _

 

Lance flips a few pages, desperate to skim through more of the journal before Keith wakes. 

 

_ Day 23 _

_ First panic attack.  _

 

_ Day 24 _

_ We kissed.  _

 

_ Day 48 _

_ I had my sixth first kiss today.  _

 

_ Day 109 _

_ Panic attack number twelve.  _

 

_ Day 114 _

_ Kissing and panic attacks. _

 

_ Day 115 _

_ I’m starting to feel like a broken record, too.  _

 

_ Day 120 _

_ Sometimes, I blame Coran for not noticing the bomb. _

 

_ Day 134 _

_ I yelled at him today. This time, I had the panic attack.  _

 

_ Day 135 _

_ He doesn’t remember our fight. I do, though. _

 

_ Day 157 _

_ I really do love him. I’ll fix his memory some day. Even if it means travelling to an alternate reality. I promise. _

 

_ Day 158 _

_ Another panic attack. _

 

_ Day 160 _

_ He told me that I look “bigger”.  _

 

_ Day 171 _

_ Fifty. Fifty first kisses.  _

 

_ Day 176 _

_ He talks to himself in Spanish. I want to marry this boy. Also, panic attack number sixty-one. Kiss number fifty-two.  _

 

Lance closes the journal, placing back in its previous place silently. He turns to watch Keith’s face, serene in his sleeping state. He kisses the corner of Keith’s mouth, beside the beauty mark on the left side of his face. 

Ducking his head to bury his face in Keith’s chest, Lance sobs quietly.

 

* * *

 

 

The light in his bedroom beams unbearably bright. It’s enough to wake Lance from his slumber. Damn Pidge, modifying the lights’ dimness to simulate a day on earth. 

After yawning and giving his eyes time to adjust to the illumination, Lance notices a paper taped to the ceiling. If he had not been distracted by the blinding auxiliary, it would have been the first thing he noticed when he woke up. 

 

_ Find Keith. Tell him how you feel.  _

 

Lance snorts upon reading the note. Is this some kind of joke? 

Squinting at the unrecognizable handwriting, Lance thinks that Pidge is  _ not _ as slick as she thinks. He tugs the paper off of his ceiling, lazily letting it float onto his floor, deciding that it’s something Lance will deal with later, if he happens to remember. 

_‘Tell him how you feel’_? What bullshit. Keith and Lance don’t go together, at all. And when they manage to bond, it’s always evanescent. 


End file.
